


Badges & Letters

by deanisthesun (become_normal)



Series: Black & Bronze [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Fluff, Hufflepuff Dean, M/M, Ravenclaw Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-08 01:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1921104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/become_normal/pseuds/deanisthesun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Dean's summer break before his seventh year at Hogwarts when he gets a very important letter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Dear Dean,_

_First of all how dare you. My marks in Charms have improved GREATLY!! since first year despite the increase in ‘distractibility’ of your tutoring methods. I used a cleaning spell to wash a pan the other day and it did not set on fire this time. I think I deserve praise. Very thorough, satisfying praise that is uninterrupted by one of your roommates, or some distressed first-year. That would be great. Which brings me to my second point._

_I miss you dearly. It has been far too many weeks without staring lovingly into your eyes while you tell me that’s creepy. Or sitting through study hall as you try to explain your Muggle references to me. Or laying out by the lake and ignoring our homework. And I especially miss your very distracting “tutoring sessions” if that wasn’t obvious from the first paragraph. I miss school and classes as well (you’re going to tease me for saying this later, I know you are) but summer is just so dull. I’ve been doing so many readings I feel as though I could teach seventh year Transfiguration at this point._

_I expect that we will receive our letters from school in the next couple days, and I was hoping we could meet up at Diagon Alley to pick up our things together. I would of course love to see Sam as well - tell him I say hi! - but I think I will be attending without my own family this time, as I would rather not deal with Gabriel getting a sugar high at Sugarplum’s again, or Anna dragging me to Twilfitt and Tatting's for two and a half hours. TWO. AND. A. HALF. HOURS. In short, write me back when you figure out when you’re going and I’d be happy to accompany you._

_Love,_

_Cas_

Dean smiles as he finishes the letter, setting it down gently on his desk as he rubs his eyes tiredly. The sun is just barely up, casting golden orange light through the second floor window of Dean’s east-facing bedroom. He’s not one to sleep in late, but waking before dawn is early even for him. However, his black horned owl, Impala refused to let him go back to sleep after she flew in with a dead mouse clutched in her teeth, and Cas’s letter in her claws.

He supposes her eagerness is better than how she used to treat letters from Cas. That is, nipping at his boyfriend’s hands until they bled, begrudgingly letting him tie the letter to her talons, and then refusing to hand it over once she arrived. He knows it’s Cas’s cat that Impala hates, more than it is him, but it was still weird to have your owl judge you for sending dirty letters to your boyfriend.

The owl in question is currently perched on his desk lamp, chewing on what’s left of the small street mouse and looking at him expectantly. He reaches over to her and strokes her beak gently, grinning as she hoots softly under his hand.  

“Ahh I’ll write him back later today, baby.” he yawns, stretching his arms above his head and popping his tight joints. “You can rest for a bit.”

He folds the letter back along it’s original creases and pulls out the red shoebox that he keeps all of Cas’s letters in. He has to pry open the lid it’s stuffed so full, and he just barely manages to find space for the newest letter amongst it’s companions whose dates range from a week, to almost seven years ago. Either he needs to invest in a bigger box, or stop being so sentimental.

Dean makes a mental note to look for large boxes the next time he’s in the Alley’s resident junk shop.

He hopes Cas is right about getting their book lists from school soon. He’s sorta itching to get back to the wizarding world. There’s only so much time he can spend surrounded by the monotony of non-magical life. Had the fire that engulfed his childhood home in Ireland at the age of four not taken his mother along with it, he may have grown up knowing his only connection the magical world. Instead, every summer since he was eleven, he returns to his muggle father and the small townhouse they’ve owned for thirteen years in North East London.

With the sun crested well over the horizon now, a more clear light taking the place of the burnished orange, Dean figures it’s as good a time as any to get breakfast started. He pads his way down the old stairs, avoiding the ones he knows creaks in an attempt to not wake Sam. His efforts turn out to be worthless as he turns the corner to the kitchen and finds his little brother sitting at their wooden kitchen table, his shaggy head peering over a large textbook.

“What are you doin’ up so early?” Dean yawns. Sam’s head snaps up gives him a tired smile.

“Heard your bird squawking, couldn’t get back to sleep, thought I’d start some studying early.” he says, sounding thoroughly annoyed.

“Shaddap, she’s not that loud.” Dean rolls his eyes and strides over to the kettle. Working under the assumption that his dad should wake up soon he fills it with water for three mugs of tea and sets it on the bottom left stove burner, heat on high. He lets the blue flames do their job and takes a seat beside Sam at the table. Dean’s been seventeen for so many months now the novelty of getting to use magic whenever he wants has worn off somewhat -- a fact that Sam finds horrifying -- so he rarely feels the need to do everything by magic. Besides, there are some things that muggles figured out just as well as wizards, and one of them is how to make the perfect cup of tea.

“Whatcha’ reading?” he asks, peering over Sam’s book. It looks like a fourth year Potions book but there’s no way Sam could’ve got his school books for the coming year yet.

“Cas lent me a couple of his fourth year textbooks so I could get my readings done early.” Sam beams. Dean shakes his head groaning.

“Tell Cas that you’re not a friggin’ charity case and that doing school work in the summer is lame as hell.” he retorts.

“He’s your boyfriend, you tell him.” Sam chides him in a voice that sounds like it’s supposed to be condescending, but just succeeds in reminding Dean that Cas is his boyfriend. Hell yeah. He sits there with a dumb smile on his face as Sam returns to his book until the kettle starts whistling, demanding attention.

He grabs three mugs out of the kitchen cupboard, all bearing varying sorts of wear and tear, and plops a tea bag in each. Earl Grey for Sam and his father, and English Breakfast for himself. He lets those steep for a few minutes, staring out the window at the warm early August morning. A strange shape in the sky catches his eye.

"Sam." Dean says, nodding up at the incoming dots. Sam swivels around in his chair and squints out the window at the small blobs, quickly turning into large blobs with wings.

Owls.

They fly high, their enormous wingspans stretching across the clouds, until they get close enough to the Winchester home to swoop down and land on the window sill. Dean’s gaze flicks from his brother to where the two brown barn owls are perched. They’re unremarkably plain owls, and each hold a nearly identical cream coloured letter with fine green writing etched onto one side -- school owls.

Sam stands and flicks the latch, letting them fly in through the small opening, drop their parcels on the kitchen table, and fly out just as swiftly.

“Always the dramatic flair with these owls." John Winchester says with almost an equal amount of dramaticism, having only just entered the room.

"Morning, dad." Dean says immediately, giving a curt nod. Sam smiles up at their dad and turns to Dean to toss his letter to him but vastly underestimates the amount of force it should've taken and it lands in the middle of the table with a loud clink and thud.

Like metal on wood.

The three of them look down at the bulging envelope in confusion. Dean’s heart thuds a little harder in his chest.

"Why is it so heavy." he asks quietly.

"Oh my god." the break in Sam’s voice makes Dean glance up at him quickly. He's wearing an expression of wonder and excitement and looks at Dean with pure joy. "Open it." he whispers.

Dean’s mind is fuzzy when he reaches for the letter, his hand shaking under the weight of it. “But why is it so heavy?” he asks again.

“I can only think of one reason a seventh year gets an envelope like that.” Sam says smugly and Dean just hates the tone in his voice because the reason just isn’t coming to him. He can’t, for the life of him, figure out what’s so damn special about his letter this year. His third year was the first time he got a thicker envelope than usual. A permission letter to Hogsmeade, which his dad signed without much hesitation. Sam received the same one last year. But this? He’s lost.

His trembling fingers peel open the seal of the envelope and gently pull the thick pad of paper out, leaving his hands too full to catch the small badge that bounces out and rests face side up on their wooden kitchen table. It’s a brilliant, deep purple colour, emblazoned with the Hogwarts crest set behind two words engraved in cursive writing, taking up the forefront of the badge.

_Head Boy._

Dean’s eyes bug wide and he shakes his head slowly. He falls into the chair behind them, unable to tear his eyes away from it. His head feels a little light as he tries to process the tiny words.

Sam’s chair scrapes back as he rushes to Dean’s side of the table and grabs at the badge.

“What is it, son?” John asks, moving over to peer at the metal pin in Sam’s hand. Dean looks up for the first time in a minute, blinking confused tears out of his eyes and catches his father and brother in a rare embrace, wearing almost identical unbelievable but proud expressions.

Dean fumbles open the letter in his hand. Flipping past the one welcoming him back to Hogwarts, and the ones that lists his school supplies to find the unusual one at the very back and dictates the words to his family.

_“Dear Mr. Winchester,_

_In addition to welcoming you back for your seventh and final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, we would also like to congratulate you on being rewarded Hogwart’s greatest honour - Head Boy.”_

Sam shouts happily and claps Dean on the shoulders. Dean’s eyes flick across the page a bit more but the rest of the letter is unremarkable, and simply lists what his duties will be. He closes the letter and tries to even out his breathing.

“I’m fuckin’ Head Boy.” Dean laughs, still in disbelief. Sam cackles happily as his dad chastises him for swearing. Sam lifts Dean’s arm, slaps the purple badge into his hand, and leans in to whisper smugly-

“Aahhh, nope I think that would be Cas now.” That joke takes Dean far too long to figure out and when he does he’s torn between _‘Hey we switch it up all the time!’_ and _‘Holy fuck Cas isn’t Head Boy’_. Sam seems to come to the conclusion at the same time.

“How do you think he’s gonna take it?” Dean asks cautiously.

“Shut up, he’s gonna be so proud.” Sam groans. “Though it’s kinda weird that they didn’t pick a prefect -- no offence.”

Dean huffs in agreement. “None taken. But I mean, there’s no rule saying they have to, so I guess they can pick whoever they want. Don’t know why they’d pick me though…”

“Don’t shoot a gift horse in the mouth, son.” John says and picks up where Dean left off in making tea. “Clearly they see promise in you, accept it.”

“Ask Cas why they’d pick you. I’m sure he has a little list written down about why you’re his favourite person ever. _Number 1: Dean’s eyes are ssooo green--_ AH!”

Dean whacks Sam across the head with his Hogwarts letter to shut him up and accepts the mug of tea handed to him from John, pointedly ignoring his curious glance. It’s not that his dad doesn’t know that Cas and him are… close, but he’s still sort of in the dark about the finer points of their relationship. And for as long as John continues to scoff at the word ‘pureblood’, Dean’s going to keep him in the dark.

“I’m not gonna tell him in a letter, Sam.” Dean replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing ever. “I am gonna ask if he wants to meet up in Diagon Alley though. Friday good for you?”

Sam nods.

Dean stands up, his chair scratching against the hardwood floor. He grabs his mug in one hand and shuffles his letters and badge into the other hand and makes his way back upstairs to his room. Impala is snoozing when he gets up there but she wakes when he enters the room and hoots softly.

“Guess who’s Head Boy, baby?” he whispers to the owl and holds out the purple badge for her to see. She taps her beak against approvingly. He sets the badge in the middle of the desk, a little off to the right as he pulls out a fresh sheet of paper and a pen. He refuses to use quills in the summer because they’re so tedious and he’s never quite got the grasp of how to use them properly. His writing is much neater with a pen.

He thinks about what he’s going to say for a little bit, glancing down at the badge every once and a while and not missing how his heart flutters excitedly every time.

He’s Head Boy.

His thoughts return to the letter that spelled out what all of his responsibilities will be for the upcoming year and instead of feeling nervous or cautious he’s just… really excited. It’s going to give him a chance to take on more of a leadership role and maybe he can screw with a couple first years while he’s at it.

He puts his pen to paper and begins to write.

_Dear Cas,_

_You’re telling me you DIDN’T screw up the easiest spell we learned in first year?!?! Wow. I’m so proud. You definitely deserved that O in Charms. Oh no I’m sorry I’m one letter off, aren’t I? Oh yes that’s right you got a P, Mr. Castiel “I’ll-Study-Later-I’m-Busy-Playing-Quidditch-Now” Novak. How you’ve managed to convince everyone that you’re a good boy who studies hard is beyond me._

Now would probably be the perfect time to bring it up. It would be such an easy transition, but he can’t do it like this. It feels too conceited. Maybe Cas is really broken up about it… He does some damage control just in case.

_If only they knew that crazy smart brain of your churned out the rest of those O’s based on pure natural talent._

Perfect.

_And yes dear, I miss you too. Which is why I’m happy to let you know that I got my Hogwarts letter today and they have once again given us galleons worth of new supplies to get so Sam and I are heading down to Diagon Alley at the end of the week. We’ll be travelling the muggle way, through the Leaky Cauldron so we can meet up there. Looking forward to seeing you and your ridiculous face soon._

_Love,_

_Dean._

He sends Impala off with the letter later that afternoon, and then it’s just a matter of waiting.

Dean’s waits three days for Cas’s response. Three days of nail-biting, hair-pulling nervousness. He can’t quite pinpoint the source of it but he’s pretty sure it’s got something to do with a lingering fear that this Head Boy business might put a rift between them.

By all logical reasoning, Cas should’ve been expecting to get the honour. Cas was made Ravenclaw Quidditch captain in their fourth year (which broke like a million school records or something), prefect in their fifth year, and received eleven OWL’s, eight of which were O’s. Dean would’ve made him Head Boy in a heartbeat.

So he waits and waits for Cas’s response, feeling as though there’s a ticking time bomb on their relationship, and perhaps even their friendship.

Finally on Thursday morning, the day before they’re going to meet up at Diagon Alley, Dean wakes to Impala squawking in his ear and hopping all over his bed. He calms her down enough to tear the letter off of her talons and she flies over to her perch on his desk, thankfully silent.

Dean sees Cas’s handwriting on the outside and his heart jumps to his throat. He tries to reassure himself that it’s not going to say anything bad, and it might not even say anything about being Head Boy. Dean didn’t bring it up in his last letter, why should Cas.

His fingers shake as they peel open the letter and Dean finds out that he was wrong. Dead wrong.

_Dear Dean,_

_I have fANTASTIC NEWS!!!! I am NOT head boy!!! Isn’t that just the greatest thing you’ve ever heard?!_

Wait. What?!

_I’m telling you this because my uncle was so furious he threatened to ground me until school starts again and it’s taken me two and a half days to butter him up enough to let me go to Diagon Alley tomorrow, which is why this letter is so late._

_My uncle’s anger is, of course, the best part of all of this. He even sent a letter to the school asking how they could make “such a glaring mistake” and that the “noble House of Milton” has been honoured with this achievement for “centuries” and “how dare they” etcetera, etcetera, ad nauseum. Whatever. Gabriel on the other hand gave me one third of his collection of chocolate frog cards and said - with actual tears in his eyes - “I’m so proud of you baby bro. You’re not the uptight loser I always thought you were.” That was definitely the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me. Including the centaur that asked me on a date to Hogsmeade in fourth year._

_Without sounding conceited here, I was so worried I was going to get it. I mean, I can barely handle being a prefect and the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain and now we have NEWT’s this year and I really just wanted to focus on my studies. Head Boy is an amazing honour for sure, but I just don’t want that kind of responsibility. I do not envy the poor bastard that is going to be stuck with that all year, that’s for sure._

_Anyways..._

The letter continues on for a couple more paragraphs but Dean re-reads those three paragraphs again to make sure he got all that information right. Cas is… happy? About being denied Hogwart’s greatest honour??

Dean lies back down in his bed and shakes his head because he totally picked the weirdest dude he could find and fell in love with him. He doesn’t even doubt Cas’s claim for a second because if there’s something Cas loves above everything else, it’s pissing off his family.

Dean snuggles back down under the covers and flicks on his small desk lamp. He finishes reading the letter with a small smile on his face because if there’s one thing he knows for certain now, it’s that Cas is gonna be so damn proud.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Damn it, Dean where are you?” Cas whispers to himself, weaving once again through the throngs of people milling around the Leaky Cauldron. He’s been looking for Dean for well over a half an hour now, twenty minutes past the time they agreed to meet.

 

“Damn it, Dean where are you?” Cas whispers to himself, weaving once again through the throngs of people milling around the Leaky Cauldron. He’s been looking for Dean for well over a half an hour now, twenty minutes past the time they agreed to meet.

His Uncle was right (words he’ll never say or think again): this is the worst weekend to go to Diagon Alley.

It’s the first weekend after everyone’s received their letters from school, so all the eager young first years go to pick up their supplies because they can’t wait any longer out of excitement. ‘Eager-young-first-years’ apparently also includes his boyfriend whose childlike sense of wonder regarding the magical world still hasn’t worn off after seven years. It’s any wonder this is the first year they’ve gone school shopping together.

Castiel just barely avoids stepping on the pointed shoe of an old woman wearing a large hood and clutching a leather bag emitting smoke and a high pitched whining sound. Okay, make that eager young first years and scary witches with crying purses. The Leaky Cauldron is a strange place.

His Uncle would die of heart failure if he knew where Castiel was right now. The Leaky Cauldron is a bar far too dark and dirty and filled with folks from all sorts of backgrounds for his Uncle to find it remotely appealing. It’s amazing how even though all witches and wizards shop in the exact same market, people like Zachariah Milton still manage to carve out places that they deem unacceptably below them.

Castiel squeezes through two chattering second year girls to finally land at the bar counter. He gives the kind old man behind the counter an awkward smile and throws a couple sickels down.

“I would like one Butterbeer, please,” Castiel requests loudly over the bustling noise of the bar. The bartender's eyes flick from Castiel to a space behind his shoulder and suddenly several more sickels join his on the counter.

“Make that three, Jim.”

Cas turns on his heel to find himself nose to nose with his favourite pair green eyes in the world. Relief and happiness flood his chest.

“Dean!” Castiel cries and Dean’s freckled face breaks out into a smile. Castiel throws himself into his chest, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and burying his face into Dean’s warm neck. Strong arms come up and tighten around his back and Cas revels in the much needed hug for a few moments.

“Heya, Cas.” Dean mumbles to the top of his head and pulls back just a little.

Castiel too loosens his fierce hold on Dean’s neck, but it’s to get at something else he desperately needs. He closes his eyes and finds Dean’s lips by memory alone, sliding his hands into his tawny short hair as Dean slots their mouths together perfectly. Their lips push gently into one another in a sweet kiss that lasts several agonizingly long seconds. Cas needs so much more than what Dean is giving him right now, but he just knows Dean’s gonna make him wait for it. This kiss is just a hello.

They pull away when Cas hears a cough behind him.

“Our Butterbeer, guys?” Cas turns in Dean’s hold, breathing deeply as he lays eyes on Sam Winchester holding three large mugs of Butterbeer.

“Hi Sam!” Castiel grins, pulling away from Dean and taking one of the mugs from him and dipping in for a quick hug.

“Hey Castiel.” Sam’s shaggy head bobs as he nods a hello. Dean’s letters didn’t lie; the only thing growing faster than Sam himself is his floppy hair. “Alright I found a table at the back while you two were busy… being busy.”

Sam turns awkwardly and beckons them over to one corner. Dean and Cas snort into their Butterbeer at Sam’s embarrassed exit but follow him through the hoards of people, joining hands to ensure they don’t get lost.

Of course if they don’t let go even once they’ve found their seats, well… whatever. He missed Dean; five weeks is far too a long time to be apart.

“So how have you been doing, Sam?” Cas asks once they’ve settles into their seats, taking a sip from his mug. Dean makes a noise of indignation and smacks him in the shoulder.

“Aren’t ya gonna ask me how I’m doing?” Dean chastises.

“Dean you send me, on average, three letters a week. I know how you’re doing.” Cas says, squeezing Dean’s hand gently under the table. Sam laughs at that and Dean’s face pulls into a pout.

“Well I’m loving the books you lent me.” Sam smiles gratefully. “Fourth year Transfiguration sounds like it’s going to be my favourite class for sure.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Fourth year was a big jump from third, but I found that I liked the challenge.”

“By challenge he means deciphering my illegible handwriting while copying my notes because he was too busy practicing for Quidditch to come to class.” Dean reveals to Sam, his eyes glowing with mischief. Cas slaps a hand over Dean’s mouth but it’s too late; Sam’s already staring at him with an open mouth. How the younger Winchester ever got the impression that Cas is the one with the superior work ethic is beyond him, but Cas isn’t jumping through hoops to set him straight.

“Don’t listen to him. That never happened!” Cas says, scandalized. Sam raises his eyebrows in suspicion. “Okay maybe once or twice.”

Both of the Winchester’s fix him with disbelieving looks.

“Come on, you don’t break the record for youngest Ravenclaw Captain in history without missing a couple classes!” Cas admits, finally removing his hand from Dean’s mouth.

“Wow.” Sam says with wonder in his eyes. “I just realized that you’re the bad boy in this relationship, Cas.”

“Been sayin’ it for years.” Dean snorts.

Castiel sighs and shrugs, conceding defeat to Sam’s accusations. Besides, exams practically write themselves; it’s his left tuck that needs work.

Conversation flows onto something else easily. Sam’s good like that. In fact, Cas has always really liked Sam and the way he can talk to him like they’re equals. Sam’s always had a very adult presence about him that Cas respects a lot. That’s why he loves to see him when he’s with Dean because all that mature pretense just breaks away and he gets to act like the little kid he’s supposed to be. For example, right now.

“Deeaaaan can we please go to Scribbulus’ first. You promised!” Sam whines, his hands clasped in a pleading motion over his now empty mug.

“First of all, Sammy, it’s weird that you’re so desperate to go to a shop that sells glorified quills and ink.” Dean says before finishing off the last dregs of his Butterbeer. “And second of all, I blew my last sickles on those Butterbeers so we’ve gotta go to Gringotts first.”

Cas perks his head up at that.

“Does that mean you have Muggle money on you right now?” Castiel asks with a twinge of hopefulness in his voice. Dean groans at the realization of what he’s getting at. He stands up and shuffles through his pockets, pulling out a small leather pouch of money and throwing it to Cas. “Go wild, babe.”

Castiel gasps in excitement, holding the leather pouch with reverence. Muggle money is so cool. He pulls the strings of the pouch out, opening up the top as he stands to follow Dean and Sam out of the Leaky Cauldron. He takes out a shiny silver coin with the words ‘Five Pence’ inscribed around the edge. He inspects it closely as they move from the dark smoky bar into the bright sun lit day.

“It’s so small!” he exclaims, holding it up to his eye. “How do you not lose it all time time?!”

He looks up briefly from his inspection of the tiny coin to see Dean smile and shake his head a couple steps in front of him. Cas ignores him and goes back to snooping. Wizarding money is boring. It’s big and clunky and there are only three pieces, nor is it ever shiny like Muggle money.

Every summer Dean goes home to get a Muggle job, so he gets paid in Muggle money. The first thing he does when he gets to Diagon Alley is go to Gringotts to exchange it for the Wizarding Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts. He always seems to have some laying around still and over the years Cas has developed a strange fascination with the stuff. He’s even built up a small collection of it in his room, which his Aunt and Uncle find appalling of course.

He’s never seen this much of it all together though. The big fifty pence piece is pretty cool, but what’s really fascinating is the paper money tucked down the side of the leather pouch. Money that’s made out of paper! Muggles think up the funniest things…

They turn down a small alley to the left and finally come up the Wizard Bank, Gringotts. Gringotts will always be impressive to him. When he was a little eleven year old boy the massive steps up to the grand wooden doors seemed almost impossible to mount, but it got easier over time. The stairs became less difficult to climb and the doors not so hard to heave open. Even the goblins got a little less scary.

Seven years on and he hops up the white marble steps easily. Ahead of him, Dean heaves the large wooden doors open, holding it for Sam and him. Dean snatches the money pouch out of his hand as he walks through the door. Cas gives him his best puppy dog eyes but Dean just shakes his head.

“You have the strangest fixations, man.”

Cas smirks and pats Dean on the cheek. “You don’t usually complain about them.”

That earns him a laugh as Dean walks off to find the nearest open teller.  Cas takes a seat on a bench off to the side next to Sam and leans back to admire the spectacular artistry of the marble edifice. A great chandelier hangs proudly in the centre of the ceiling, illuminating the intricate circular floor patterns and tiny wooden booths that make up the interior of the building.

His eyes fall back to Dean, as they always seem to do. He’s standing a few rows away from the bench Sam and him are sitting on, counting out money with a goblin. The pinched, unhappy expression he’s wearing marrs his otherwise perfect features and, not for the first time, Cas wishes he could do something to wipe it from his face.

Money is a contentious issue between them. Cas would never in his wildest dreams bring it up directly with Dean, especially not in a condescending way. It’s personal business. But not talking about it doesn’t stop them both from knowing that while Cas resides in a mansion in Berkshire and has meals served to him on silver platters by a small army of house elves, Dean lives in a tiny apartment on the East side of London and struggles to make ends meet. Hogwarts must’ve been a goddamn blessing for the Winchester’s.

“Don’t you have banking to do?” Sam asks, snapping Cas out of his trance.

“Oh, no.” Cas pats a pocket in his cloak. “I’ve got it right here. Allowance from my uncle.”

“Ahh.” Sam nods.

“So are you able to use that textbook for this year, or did Turner finally order new course books?” Cas asks, changing the subject quickly.

“Nope he’s still running the same course he always does.” Sam laughs.

“I figured as much. Alright, well just keep it, then.” Cas gives him a warm smile. “In fact I probably have other ones that you can use too if you want.”

“Thanks Cas. I might just take you up on that offer,” Sam says, flashing him a grateful smile. They sit in peaceful silence for a while before Sam’s quiet cough snaps his attention back.

“So uhm… have you talked to Jessica at all… recently?” he asks cautiously, looking more at Dean than at him. Castiel suppresses a laugh. Dean teases Sam mercilessly for his ridiculous crush on the pretty blonde Ravenclaw, but he thinks it’s sweet.

“Yes, actually she sent me a letter recently. She wanted to know how my summer was going, and she’s thinking about trying out for Quidditch, which I told her it was a great idea. She also wants to know if I know of any reason why you haven’t written her all summer.”

Sam makes a pained noise.

“Did she really say that?” Cas nods. “Ugh. I just don’t know what to write!” he whines sadly. “Every time I pick up a quill to write her a letter I just end up staring at blank parchment because everything I try to say sounds geeky, or desperate, or stupid.”

“Well, why don’t you ask Dean for help?” Sam rolls his eyes at that but Castiel barrells forward. “He’s your older brother, that’s what they’re for. Trust me, he might tease you for a bit, but really he just wants to help. He will be happy that you’re happy.”

“You sure about that one, Cas?” Sam says disbelievingly. “Didn’t Gabe hex Dean so bad he had to write his History of Magic O.W.L. with boils covering literally every inch of his skin because he found out you guys got together?”

Cas laughs at the memory. “Yes, that is true. But I think that Gabriel was provoked.”

Sam hums in agreement. Though the younger Winchester only had to endure Gabriel’s wrath for one year of his schooling, he’s heard the stories well enough.

Dean and Gabriel had a very touch-and-go friendship. Everything was a competition between them, so in Gabriel’s eyes, Dean finally making a move on his younger brother wasn’t the consummation of a crush that had been growing for years; it was just another act in their game. Gabriel had simply responded accordingly. But he’s come around a lot over the years, once he realized it was serious of course.

“If you really want,” Castiel says, bringing the conversation back around to Sam and Jess, “I could send her a letter to say that you asked about her.”

Sam looks up at him worriedly. “Wouldn’t that sound weird? Or creepy maybe? I don’t want her to think I’m creepy.”

“She doesn’t think you’re creepy Sam.” he says seriously, staring Sam down until it looks like he begins to believe him. “I’ll send her the letter.”

Sam sighs in defeat. “Okay. Thanks Cas.”

“Anytime.”

Dean finally finishes up with the goblin and saunters back to where him and Sam are waiting. They stand to meet him and Dean thrusts the money pouch into Sam’s hands.

“There ya go, Sammy. All yours.” Dean tucks his hands into his pockets, smiling proudly down at his little brother.

“You kept some for yourself, right?” Sam questions worriedly. Dean sighs and shoves him a little ways towards to door.

“Don’t worry about me, bitch. I’ve got it covered.”

Cas rolls his eyes and follows them out the door, and down the steps, once again into the cobblestone walkway. How they can go from loving friends, to bickering siblings in a matter of seconds is beyond him.

“So are we all going to hit up the bookstore together?” Dean asks, specifically looking at Sam. “Or are you gonna give me five minutes alone with this one?”

Cas barely has a second to react before the ground falls before his feet and Dean lifts him into a tight hug from behind, smacking a loud kiss to the side of his neck.

“Dean!” Cas squeaks in an mortifyingly high pitched tone. He can feel a warm blush spreading up his neck. Dean takes no heed to the witch that walks by quickly with a frown on her face, or that Sam is giving them an incredulous look. “You’re so embarrassing.”

Dean pulls him tighter against his chest and presses a soft kiss to his cheekbone. “You wouldn’t want me any other way.”

Cas bites his lip to avoid saying anything sappy about how true that is. Sam thankfully saves him from it.

“Ugh come on Dean. Let’s go to one store together and then you and Cas can go make out behind as many bushes as you want.”

Dean sighs and unwraps his arms from Castiel, sliding one hand down to intertwine with his. “Fine, whatever.” Dean tugs him down the cobblestone path, Sam following closely behind. “And we don’t make out behind bushes, by the way. That’s what empty classrooms and teashops are for.”

Cas chuffs him over the head for that one but he seems too happy to care. There’s a swing in Dean’s step today and Cas is pretty sure that not even a nasty case of dragon pox could bring him down.

At last they reach Flourish and Blotts, one of Castiel’s personal favourite shops. He loves the way its towering shelves, stuffed to the brim with books, welcome him back every year for a new semester of learning.

Cas drops Dean’s hand to pull his school list out of his bag, Sam does the same just as the book keeper bustles up to them with a toothy smile.

“Hogwarts then, boys?” he asks with a thick Cockney accent. “What years will ya be going into?”

Sam opens his mouth to answer but Cas holds up a hand.

“I’m sorry could we just have a moment to browse first?” he asks with a polite smile and doesn’t receive one in return. When the man is out of earshot Cas leans over to check out Sam’s school list.

The reason Dean never lends Sam his own textbooks is because he sells them at the end of every school year in case they update the school list by the time Sam gets around to needing them and they’re rendered worthless. Dean buys his own books at the second hand bookshop.

So while Dean never gets the chance to hand his books down to Sam, it sure as hell doesn’t mean Cas can’t do it.

“Alright, don’t buy the _Standard Book of Spells Grade 4_ because I have it and they’re never going to stop teaching that damn book.” Cas scoffs and Sam laughs in agreement. “You already have my copy of _Intermediate Transfiguration_ so you’re good there. I also still have _Practical Defensive Magic and It’s Use Against the Dark Arts, Intermediate Potion Making, Modern Magical History,_ and the _Spellman’s Syllabary_ if you’re taking Ancient Runes again this year. It looks like everything else got new editions.” Cas frowns sadly. “I’m sorry I can’t help you more.”

“Are you kidding? You’re a friggin’ life saver Cas.” Sam claps him on the shoulder and moves over the bookshelves to search for the three books left on his list. “I’m thinking about asking you to marry me right now, but I’m guessing I’ll have to settle for brother in law.”

Cas balks at his gall but Dean seems to think it’s hilarious and laughs loud enough for the store attendant to throw them a dirty look. Cas’s own small, pleased smile lasts the duration of their time in the bookstore and remains plastered to his face as he grabs his own books for school, only growing at the unhappy expression the book keeper makes when Sam buys less than half of what's on his list.

Whatever infectious happiness Dean is radiating is starting to wear off on him.

The next store they visit, as promised, is Scribbulus’ Writing Instruments shop. Dean spends the first ten minutes bemoaning the uselessness of the store until he stumbles across a product labelled _‘Quill-pens’! Muggle pens that look like quills, for the Muggle-born that just can’t wrap their fingers around the Wizarding way of writing!’_

Dean leaves the store with a box of four Quill-pens, and ignores Sam’s smug face when he gloats, “I told you it was a cool store.”

Dean is saved from any more embarrassment when a short fourth year Gryffindor boy walks up to them with an enormous smile on his face.

“Hi Sam!”

“Kevin!”

The two boys slap a handshake and then pull each other in for a one-armed hug, laughing as they greet each other. Kevin gives a beaming grin to him and Dean as well. They wave a hello and Dean motions to Sam that they’re gonna take off. Sam shakes him away and starts up a lively conversation with his friend.

"Thank all the Gods for Kevin Tran." Dean sighs as soon as they're far enough away. A hand finds his and Dean tugs him a couple inches closer, giving him a sweet smile. A guilty happiness bubbles in Cas's chest because Dean is actively spending time with him instead of Sam. That usually only happens when the two brothers are fighting.

Maybe Dean missed him more than Castiel had realized.

They pop into a couple more shops. Dean buys his books at the second hand shop. Cas picks up a couple cat toys for his tabby cat Claire at Magical Menagerie. He also browses through Quality Quidditch Supplies and ends up getting some replacement wood polish for his new Firebolt.

Last year his broom was snapped in half during the second last quidditch match of the season. For him it meant a crippling loss for Ravenclaw and three days of unconsciousness in the hospital wing. For his Aunt and Uncle it finally meant the end of the shabby old Comet 180 that he loved so dearly and they so openly despised.

 _"No self respecting Milton flies around on a broom that's thirty years old and falling apart, Castiel!"_ His Aunt Hester used to yell shrilly at him. _"People think we're poor, letting you fly around on a thing like that. Let us buy you a new broom."_

Cas would politely decline, say that he loves his broom, and remind her once again that he's not a Milton anyways. He's a Novak.

Less than a week after the demise of his broom, a flawless new Firebolt landed in front of him at his morning breakfast. Although he does miss the sentimentality his old broom had, he can’t deny that the Firebolt is a truly exquisite broom. He hasn't played an official game with it yet but he knows already that they're going to be unstoppable this year.

Dean and him decide to rest their feet at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. It’s a favorite of Dean's. He always says that ice cream is the one Muggle treat that Wizards haven't ruined yet.

Sure enough, once they find seats on the outdoor patio, ice cream cones in hand - Bubble Gum for Dean and Chocolate for himself - Dean starts up his familiar rant about Wizard candy.

"I mean what kind of sick bastard creates a Snot flavored jelly bean and makes it exactly the same colour as Lime?" he exclaims, licking a stripe up the bright pink ice cream.

"Bertie Botts does, I guess." Cas shrugs, biting into his waffle cone. "They're a wildly popular candy, Dean."

"Yeah that's because no one in the Wizarding world has ever eaten a good, honest potato crisp before." Dean scoffs. "I'm telling ya Cas, you gotta visit sometime. I'll show you what real candy is"

"I can hardly wait..." he teases and ducks the swipe Dean makes for his ice cream.

They lick away at their ice cream cones until the warm sun begins to melt the frozen cream and it runs down their wrists making a sticky mess. Dean wipes his off with a quick cleaning charm and Cas licks at his hands pathetically until Dean takes pity on him and performs the charm again.

"So I was thinking," Dean says after a couple moments, reaching across the table and scooping up Castiel's hands into his own, "now that we're finally alone, I was wondering if you -"

"Dean! Cas!"

So much for being alone...

They release each others hands and turn to find Charlie Bradbury bounding towards their table and behind her walking at a leisurely pace is Hannah, a Ravenclaw girl in their year. Charlie skips over and Dean stands to give her a big welcoming hug. Hannah hangs back a little but Cas beckons her closer.

“Here, I’ll grab you both seats.” Cas hops up, conceding that him and Dean are probably going to have company for a little while longer, and drags two more metal chairs over to their small table. Charlie takes the one beside Dean and Hannah, beside him.

“So how are you guys doing?” Charlie asks brightly, keeping up her reputation of being the happiest person in the room. Castiel is pretty sure she does it just because she loves breaking people’s stereotypical notions of Slytherins.

“We’re good.” Dean says and looks to him with a smile. “Got most of our shopping done and now we’re just relaxing a bit. How are you ladies doing?”

“Well…” Charlie says with a devious smile. “Hannah’s doin’ pretty good.”

Cas’s eyes swivel to Hannah and he knows Dean’s do the same. Her mouth is pressed in a hard line towards Charlie but her eyes speak of an underlying happiness that Charlie brought up whatever it is the girls are talking about.

Hannah clears her throat and looks to Cas. “Well I guess I have good news for Ravenclaw.” she says and finally lets the smile reach her lips as she looks up at him. “I’m Head Girl this year.”

“Oh, Hannah!” Cas exclaims, radiating with happiness. He pulls her in for a quick hug, their knees bumping awkwardly under the table. Dean always says that Hannah has a massive crush on him, but Cas always argues that she just thinks of him like a brother. The way she’s beaming up at him with a dreamy smile right now makes him think that maybe Dean has the right idea. “Congratulations, that’s wonderful.”

“Yeah it’s a really great honour. I just hope I can fulfill my role adequately.” Hannah sighs, her smile faltering for a second. Cas knows she’s probably fishing for a compliment a little. Charlie, who is probably as smitten with Hannah as Hannah is with him, takes the bait.

“Hannah don’t be ridiculous.” Charlie groans, fawning over her friend. “They wouldn’t have picked you if you were absolutely perfect. For the job, that is.”

The girls share a sly smile and Cas thinks, yeah, they’d make a fantastic couple.

“So, Castiel?” Hannah looks back to him expectantly and he’s not sure what she wants him to say. “Are congratulations in order for you as well?”

Then he catches up.

“Oh, me? Head Boy? No.” he shakes his head non-committally. Hannah’s face falls into a frown.

“You… aren’t Head Boy? I thought that for sure it would be you.”

“Hannah, it’s alright.” he laughs reassuringly at her crestfallen expression. “I didn’t want it. I mean it’s fantastic for you, and for Ravenclaw. But it’s just not for me, I don’t want that kind of responsibility.”

She looks like her entire world just fell from under her feet and he tries not to laugh. She’s far more upset about this than he is.

“Well then who could it possibly be?” Hannah turns sharply to Charlie. “Do you know who it is? Someone from Slytherin maybe?”

Charlie shakes her head. Then Dean coughs and three pairs of eyes flick to him.

“Actually I uh,” Dean clears his throat again. He’s fiddling with his hands and refuses to meet any of their gazes, like he’s hiding something. “I know who it is.”

Dean leans down beside him and reaches into his book bag. He digs around for a moment and pulls his hand out, this time clasped around something. In the second it takes him to set it down on the table, Castiel has figured out what it is.

Dean sets it down on the small table. A shiny, purple badge, emblazoned with curling, cursive words that read ‘Head Boy’ shines up at him.

“It’s me.”

Castiel’s mouth parts unconsciously in shock and he looks up into Dean’s emerald eyes, shimmering with worry. His heart fills with joy and pride, and his brain is consumed with a million different thoughts and feelings all at one, until it finally narrows down to a singular notion that in some corner of his mind, he’s always known to be true.

_It could have never been anyone else._

**Author's Note:**

> you can like/reblog it on tumblr here: http://deanisthesun.tumblr.com/post/91179073899/badges-letters :)


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